


Never Disappoint Me

by rivrower



Category: Magisterium Series - Holly Black & Cassandra Clare
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Miraculous Ladybug AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-11 10:45:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11146815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivrower/pseuds/rivrower
Summary: Callum Hunt is a perfectly ordinary boy, aside from the superpowers. He patrols the city at night with his fellow superhero, protecting the city from the Enemy of Death and the Chaos-ridden he creates. They have settled into a rhythm, but change is coming.





	1. Chapter 1

Magisterium is a weird city. Though the thick, dark forests, full of twisting roots and warped, uneven earth, remains firmly outside, the actual city still has the ominous air, especially at night. Call rubs at his leg, remembering the single, unsuccessful camping trip he and Alastair had tried to take. It had not ended well. At all.

“Ladybug! There you are!” Chat Noir pulls Call from his thoughts, bumping his shoulder gently as he beams and settles into step with him. “How has the lovely Ladybug been? Did you oversleep?”

Call forces a grin and replies, “Never been better. Besides, we all know I don’t get any sleep.”

“Really.” Chat raises an eyebrow. “I’ll have to make a note of that: Ladybug doesn’t get enough sleep.”

Call mimics, “I’ll have to make a note of this: Chat Noir is too nosy to watch where he’s going.”

Chat raises his head, only to walk directly into a pole. He shakes his head, eyes crossing momentarily, as Call bursts into peals of laughter. He cackles hard enough to find himself gasping, hands on his knees. Chat is smiling too, a goofy grin sprawled across his face. Call finally resumes his patrol, mouth twitching, and fingers his bracelet. The bands are still glinting a full, constantly swirling black, reminiscent of the void they both draw on. Wandering the streets is hard, leaving his leg stiff and aching every single morning he gets up, but if he’s going to be a superhero, he’s going to do it right, not give anyone a reason to dismiss him. This is the singular thing forcing him out of the comforts of his room and his bed, Havoc sprawled across it and panting enthusiastically.

“There,” Chat breathes in his ear, pointing at a shadowed corner. Something is moving, almost invisibly. Call tries to focus, squinting narrowly and ignoring the prickle of heat creeping up to his ears at Chat's proximity. When the figure steps into the light of a nearby streetlight, the reflection off of its eyes is clear. Chat reacts quickly, launching himself at the Chaos-Ridden. It shifts its gaze away from Call a moment too slow to avoid the pitch black swirl of energy centered in his palm and pops out of existence like a soap bubble. Chat lands neatly on his feet, sweeping a bow and grinning, “It’s hardly even a challenge anymore.”

Call tries to fake a smile convincingly, his leg twinging painfully as he steps forward. “Yeah.” He closes his eyes, reaching for that tug in his stomach that lets him bring back everything sent to the void. He almost has it, a heavy weight coiling in his core as he reaches in, when a sudden force bowls into him.

Chat’s howl of, “Ladybug!” is lost as Call scrabbles desperately. The grip of the Chaos ridden seems almost loose and he manages to kick out of its hold as Chat streaks over. In the blink of an eye, Call is rasping for breath and searching for any sight, sound, movement. There is nothing there that he can see, but the feeling of being hunted remains.

“Ladybug? Are you alright?” Chat is next to him, staring into his face. Concern makes his face soft and gentle as he asks again, “Are you okay?”

Call steps away, snapping brusquely, “I’m fine.” As he does, the pain in his leg flares and he staggers, reaching for a support. Chat catches him, scooping him up into a princess carry in one smooth motion. They are on the rooftop and Chat is setting him down before Call can set about protesting. Call forces his legs to bend down to get into a sitting position, massaging one leg as he stares out over the street. With a simple flick of his wrist, two figures, no longer under the Enemy's thrall, appear on the street, sitting up dizzily and clutching their heads. Chat sits down next to him, warmth slipping over the scant inches between them.

“I’ve never had more than one come after us before.”

“Mm.” Call is unfocused.

“The Enemy, whoever he is, must be getting stronger. We need a plan.”

“Yeah.” Call struggles to his feet. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m going to turn back soon and I need to head home.”

Chat glances away, tapping nail-bitten fingers against the roof. He looks back and manages to get out, “I actually had something I wanted to ask you. I-”

“Can it really not wait until tomorrow? The Enemy will still be there.”

Chat sighs and looks down at his hands. He is oddly subdued as he mutters, “Alright then. See you tomorrow, Ladybug.”


	2. Chapter 2

Alastair forces Call out of bed, shouting unintelligibly but insistently. Havoc is already pacing across the floor, whining desperately until Call heaves himself up and limps out of his room. Havoc launches himself out almost before the backdoor opens and sprints across the yard, legs coiling and working in a graceful lope across the overgrown grass. Call hides a yawn behind his hand and sniffs hopefully for coffee.

When the bitter aroma starts curling out of the kitchen, he calls Havoc back in and finds a mug waiting for him with a piece of toast. Alastair is drinking his own coffee, eyes sharp and inspecting. Call slumps into the chair and blearily works his way through breakfast. Eventually the coffee kicks in and he perks up, energy buzzing in his veins.

The car of the day is a Chevelle, sky blue and grumbling through the streets alarmingly. Alastair drops him off in front of school, scowling up at it and repeating, “If there are any problems, tell me immediately, Call. Have a good day.”

Just like every morning, Call ignores the downright hostile tone of his father and slides out of the car. Tamara is waiting for him, her backpack at her feet and her phone loose in her fingers. She waves when she sees him and he hurries up the stairs stiffly to join her. A few classmates straggle by; Celia smiles politely and continues walking past, while Jasper makes a mocking face at Call and stops to greet Tamara.

He seems almost sheepish as he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “You going to head in soon, Tamara?”

She regards him calmly, eyes narrowed, and replies, “I’m waiting with Call, for Aaron to get here.”

“Ah.”

Jasper waits a few more seconds, shifting uncomfortably, before he continues in through the gates.

“I don’t like Jasper,” Call declares, scowling after him.

“I know,” Tamara sighs. “But we’ve known each other for a long time. I can’t just ignore him because you two don’t get along.”

“Yes you can. You absolutely can.”

Aaron sprints up to them before Tamara can do more than gently shove him, panting and asking, “I’m not late yet, right? I had to get here on my own.”

“You’re on time,” Tamara assures. “You know, it wouldn’t be a problem if we swung by and picked you up in the mornings. Kimiya probably won’t get us into a deadly car crash at this point.”

Aaron shakes his head, his lips tightening, and says politely, “I’d hate to be a burden. Anyways, if I’m not late now, I will be if we don’t get to class.”

 

During study hall, Master Rufus comments dryly, “Silence. I would be relieved to see you finally focusing for once if it didn’t feel so ominous. Do I need to be worried?”

Call shakes his head out of reliving last night. When he glances at Aaron, he is similarly disoriented, and Tamara hasn’t even heard, still absorbed in whatever calculations she’s sketching out on a city map.

Aaron is the only one brave enough to reply, “No?”

Master Rufus raises an eyebrow. “Now I’m definitely worried. Nothing illegal, please. And don’t get yourselves killed.”

Aaron laughs bitterly and answers, “Certainly not.” He lifts a hand to his mouth and begins chewing absentmindedly, tapping his other hand. Call feels a burst of concern when he sees that his nails are bitten to the quick, almost bleeding. Whatever Aaron is concerned about can’t be good. Call swallows, almost asks, remains silent. If Aaron wants to talk, he’ll reach out.

By lunch, Aaron is as closed off as before and Call is waiting for the right moment to broach the subject. He waits while Aaron piles his plate high with the cafeteria sludge, moving along with the line. Tamara has a fancy home-cooked meal, matching the lunchbox her sister is sharing with her boyfriend. Call himself has a sandwich.

Aaron sits down and Call immediately leans forward, pushing his food aside and considering how best to phrase his question.

“Hey, Tamara. You want to join me for lunch?”

Jasper has reappeared yet again, holding his lunch and casting a cold eye on the two other members of her table. Tamara swallows and snaps, “I’m already eating, Jasper. Sit wherever you want.”

“Seriously? Even if you’re making a pity case out of the cripple, you don’t have to spend every single second with him. You’re allowed to have friends.”

Call feels the bottom of his stomach drop out as the entire room goes silent, all eyes on them. For a single, horrible moment, no one can move.

Tamara stands slowly and turns to Jasper. Call feels the sting of betrayal as she reaches out across the table with one hand. He looks at her surreptitiously only to gape as she lifts Aaron’s tray and smashes it into Jasper’s face. Jasper howls, clutching his nose as goop slides down his face, and Tamara hisses, “I do have friends. It’s why I don’t hang out with you.”

Aaron stands up too, snarling, “You can’t say that, Jasper. Back. off.”

Jasper lurches away, disappearing into a muttering crowd that curls away from him as Aaron drops down and wraps an arm around him. Tamara says softly, “I’m sorry, Call. I can’t believe he said that to you.”

Call smiles thinly. “I’ve heard worse. But no one’s ever stood up for me like that. Thank you.”

Tamara settles in on his other side, completing the physical barrier Aaron has created, and murmurs, “Of course I’d stand up for you.”

Aaron joins in, his voice rough as he says, “You’re our friend, Call. We’d never let anyone get away with that.”

Mixed in with the relief, Call feels a bizarre disappointment. He ignores it though, snuggling in against his friends.


	3. Chapter 3

The disappointment lingers, even as the satisfaction of seeing Jasper with a nose splint and deep purple bruises under his eyes fades. It bleeds over into his night life: Chat seems extra affectionate, but always on the verge of saying something and Call can’t quite bring himself to figure out what the issue is. He’s too busy trying to ignore the creeping cold that hovers whenever he pictures Aaron assuring him that they are indeed friends.

Still, for the next few nights, there are no surprise Chaos-ridden and each night, Call hurries home as soon as he can. The weekend can’t come soon enough and on Friday night, he is vibrating with the proximity to sweet freedom.

“Remember, we have a photo op with the Assembly.”

Call freezes and slowly cranes his neck to stare at Chat. “A photo op?”

Chat nods slowly. “Yep. The new park? Mayor Tarquin? Any of this ringing a bell?”

Call curls his lip, the memory of promising a press appearance in return for a new park that Havoc can actually go to coming back. He can already feel his precious hours slipping away from him and he groans, draping himself against a building.

“Guess I’ll see you there.”

 

The day is a beautiful one, clear blue skies and a soft breeze keeping the heat from getting too oppressive. Posing for pictures, however, is incredibly boring compared to doing literally anything else. Call does thank whatever god there is that Chat is the photogenic one, and that he acquiesces to most of the demands with a polite smile. Call is free to stand uncomfortably in the background.

After pictures come the inevitable line of fans clutching pens and posters, hoping for a signature or a handshake. Call works his way through his line, managing a genuine smile for the round faced kids wearing paper bracelets and costumes. He even takes pictures.

“Hi, Ladybug!” Call jumps at the familiar voice. Blond hair flutters in the breeze and Celia looks up at him with an innocuous twinkling smile. She thrusts a piece of paper and a glittery gel pen at him and asks, “Could I get an autograph?”

Call can’t help the pleased smile that curls across his face and he takes the paper carefully. 

“To Celia, right?” She blushes, nodding quickly, and he signs with a sparkling flourish, handing it back to her eagerly. She hesitates for a moment, searching his face, and then leans forward, pressing her lips to his cheek as she takes the paper from him. Call freezes, eyes bugging out as heat races up to his ears.

Suddenly, Chat is right there, laughing and slinging an arm around his shoulders. He smirks, “First kiss, Ladybug?”

Call shrugs out from under his arm, blush all the way across his face at this point, and starts stammering, “Uh, Celia? I--uh--I can’t-”

“Oh. I’m sorry!” Celia’s face falls and she scurries out hastily, autograph crumpling in her fist.

“You handled that well,” Chat remarks flatly. Call looks back at him and grumbles, “I panicked. I wasn’t expecting her to  _ kiss _ me. Should I go after her and apologize?”

Chat shrugs, replying, “If you want to. But enough about her. We should help clean up. Come on, Ladybug.”

By the time all of the chairs and detritus from the photo op are cleaned up, Call’s leg is aching brutally, the muscle tightening and sending twinges of pain with every step. All he wants to do is go home, cuddle with his dog, but Chat catches his wrist. He drags him to a secluded alley and starts tapping his fingers together.

“What?” Call finds himself snapping more sharply than he’d quite meant to.

“Don’t-don’t you think it’s time we knew each other’s real identities? We’ve been working together for almost a year now.”

For the second time that day, Call finds himself stammering, words tumbling out half-formed and unintelligible. Finally, Chat raises a hand and cuts him off.

“Okay, I get it. You’re not comfortable with that yet.” His shoulders slump. “I just want you to know, I trust you, no matter who you are behind the mask.” He jumps away before Call can respond, springing up to the rooftops and disappearing from view. Call stays in the alley a little while longer, sitting against the wall and staring down at the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

The weekend slips by too quickly, though the night patrols drag on painfully, Chat quiet and terse. When Monday rolls around, school isn’t much better. Tamara is still working on her map, consulting a giant sheaf of papers and making new notes in green pen over the previous blue and red lettering. Aaron is in a miserable mood, sullen and biting his nails until he actually bleeds. Master Rufus picks up on the tension, though his only comment is a reassurance that, “You can tell me anything, all of you. I promise I’ll listen and help in any way I can.”

None of them respond and he sighs, leaving them to their own work. Call scowls down at his math homework, trying to make sense of the variables sprinkled through the equation. When he looks up, Tamara is furrowing her brow at her list and Aaron is tapping his pencil against a sheet of paper. Their eyes meet and Aaron smiles half-heartedly.

Yet again, Call debates confronting Aaron to figure out whatever the issue is. He follows him to the cafeteria, dogging his footsteps until Aaron stops dead and Call smacks directly into his shoulderblades. As he blinks away tears of pain, Call peers around him and sees Celia walking through the halls. Call flinches in surprise and glances at Aaron; he is rigid, his face stiff and wooden.

“Celia!” Jasper sprints up to her and Call recoils again. But Celia just smiles sweetly and offers him her hand. He takes it, kissing her and leading her into the cafeteria. Call blinks. He realizes that his jaw is hanging open and closes it, trying to make sense of them. He sags in relief; he’d be insulted that Celia moved on so fast if he weren’t so overjoyed.

“Jasper? Really?” Aaron seems to have come to the same conclusion, breaking into a wide grin. He is almost back to normal, relaxed and joking with Tamara at the lunch table until she puts her work away and actually starts participating in the conversation.

With Celia safely out of the picture, everything seems to improve instantaneously. Even on patrol, Chat Noir is vivacious and talkative again. Call can relax again.

 

The moon is rising, a thin sliver that barely seems able to hang in the sky. Even the stars seem a little further, a little dimmer, and there are drifts of clouds. Call is tense, scanning every street corner and dark patch; Chat is equally uncomfortable, ranging around him guardedly. They take to the rooftops, staying on the high ground and hunting through the streets. Chat is the first to hear the footsteps, gesturing to Call and readying himself silently.

A figure streaks around the corner and Chat leaps.

“Wait!” Kimiya’s boyfriend flings his arms up. Call strains to remember his name: Alex, maybe? Chat pinwheels his arms, avoiding Alex by the barest hair, and hops backwards. Alex doesn’t miss a beat, wailing, “Ladybug, Chat Noir, I need your help! My girlfriend’s little sister, she was kidnapped by the Chaos-ridden! Her name is Tamara, she’s got long, dark curly hair, she-”

Call’s ears are ringing faintly. Distantly, he hears Chat cut him off, saying desperately, “Where is she? Do you know where they took her?”

Alex nods frantically and immediately starts sprinting towards the edge of town. Call and Chat are right behind him, Call pushing himself to keep up no matter what. Alex leads them to an abandoned warehouse, unlit and filthy. Chat is the first one in, Call a close second. But the warehouse is completely empty, the dust still in a thick, even layer.

“Now then, Call, Aaron. How are you on this fine evening?”

Call spins, staring at Alex and automatically settling into a fighting stance. Chat turns too, looking at Call.

Alex continues, “The two of you have had quite some fun, running around and playing at superheroes. But, Call, I have a friend that wants to meet you. He’s been waiting for you for a very long time.”

“Call?” Chat’s voice cracks. “You’re Ladybug?”

Call flinches and looks away, nodding. He replays the conversation, lands on one word. “Wait! Aaron? What?”

“Aw, didn’t you know? Not very team-like of you.” Alex shrugs, pulling his sleeve up to reveal a bronze cuff, not unlike the ones Call and Aaron wear. “You can give me your cuffs now, or I can take them from your dead bodies.”

Instinctively, Call covers his cuff, hiding it from view. Aaron crouches, lowering his center of gravity as orbs of black fire form in his palms.

“The hard way it is!”

He lifts his hand and Call tenses, ready to spring into action. Almost too fast to see, a bolt of coppery fire arcs from Alex’s palm, pinwheeling through the air like a firework. Call is frozen, a rabbit in the headlights. In watching it approach, he knows in his gut that if it hits him, he will die.

“Call! Aaron!” Tamara’s voice rings out clear as a bell as she slams into them, knocking Call to the floor. Aaron makes a choked wheezing sound and collapses next to him. Sparking over his torso are ribbons of blazing copper.

“Huh. It worked. Nice.” 

Call twists his head slowly, rage erasing every thought except vengeance. He’s never tried to kill with his powers, leaving that to Aaron. But now, Aaron is lying still on the concrete and Call lashes out. 

Alex screams, writhing as the swirling black of the void creeps up under his skin until it reaches his eyes. They go black. He goes limp. Call grins hollowly as he fingers the cuff tight against his skin, and for a second there is pure, gleeful victory dancing through his veins. And then he is nauseous, staring at a corpse as Aaron rattles a shaky breath.

Call returns to him, hands fluttering helplessly as Tamara checks desperately for a heartbeat. He almost collapses, folding to his knees, when she breathes a sigh of relief, though each beat is faint and too fast. 

“Call. Call! Look,” Tamara shouts. He turns and sees a shadowy figure kneeling over Alex. It strips the cuff from his wrist and stands, silver mask reflecting the light. As Call lunges forward, it disappears.


	5. Chapter 5

Call stares at the space where the hooded figure had been, nails digging bloodless crescents into his palms. His heartbeat is loud in his ears, almost drowning Tamara out as she calls the police, calm and professional as she gives their location and asks for an ambulance. When she hangs up, Call starts pacing, coming up with half-formed plans and abandoning them.

“Call, calm down.”

“But, Aaron,” he gestures helplessly. “What do we do?”

“Ladybug can fix the aftermath of battles, right?” Tamara has pulled out her notebook and begins flipping through it.

“I summon stuff back from the void and that fixes it; I can’t automatically activate it. And Aaron’s the only one who can send anything to the void.”

Tamara wrinkles her nose. “Except for the Enemy of Death, your big nemesis. Honestly, how are you still alive? Do you actively forget important information?”

Call blinks at her. “How did you know I was Ladybug?”

“I’m not an idiot, Call. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready and I’d have to fake adequate surprise, but we don’t really have time for that at this point. Now, talk while we walk.” As sirens start to echo through the warehouse, she slips out and leads him purposefully down one of the twisting alleys. “I’ve been trying to triangulate the Enemy’s position by tracking the Chaos-ridden. He moves around but when you get enough data points, the recent ones center around one area. Right here.” She points at a spot on her map, circled in red.

“Tamara, that’s amazing! Why aren’t you my math tutor?”

She stares him down flatly. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say anything. We have to  get to the old mausoleum before he changes location and we’re all screwed.”

“The mausoleum? Is he trying to be a creepy stereotype?”

Tamara snorts, replying, “You can tell him that his aesthetic is too cliche.”

“You know, I wish I’d told you earlier. It’s really nice having you on my side.”

Tamara looks at him sidelong, her mouth crooking up unevenly. She nods, remarking, “It would have been nice to have you tell me the truth. Call, can you promise me something? Don’t lie to me anymore, please.”

Call swallows, darting a glance at her. There is a weight in his stomach, cold and miserable, and his voice cracks as he swears, “I won’t lie to you ever again. I promise.”

“Thanks.” And just like that, she is back to businesslike, checking her map against every street sign they pass. When they reach a radius of a few blocks around the mausoleum, Chaos-ridden mill about, and Call takes her to the rooftops, moving as quietly as he can. Above the mausoleum, he comes to a halt and asks her, “So, what’s the plan? How do we defeat the Enemy of Death?”

“Make him send something to the void and I’ll swoop in to take his cuff. If it’s the source of your power, it’ll be the source of his and you’ll be able to fix everything. You distract him while I sneak in. Got it?”

She runs off before he can protest, worming her way into a narrow vent. Call sighs and drops to the ground carefully. The Chaos-ridden turn as one to look at him, but before they can attack, he is through the door and closing it behind him.

There are muffled sounds behind the door that he ignores in favor of taking in the room in front of him. It is dead silent and icy cold, blocks of white marble covering every surface with a smooth, implacable veneer.

Call creeps forward, stifling the urge to call out for Tamara, and examines the brass plates affixed at various points along the walls. The name on the closest one is familiar, as though he’d read it once in a book or a news article.  _ Jericho Madden _ . He reaches out and traces the edge; it is cold enough to burn his fingers and he yanks them back, rubbing his hand.

“Master?”

Call jumps, whipping around defensively. The hooded figure from before is standing at the top of the stairs, gleaming silver mask fixed on him. The figure lifts their hands and Call flinches back. But instead of attacking, the figure removes the mask, revealing a weathered face, old, silvering scars rippling across it.

The man smiles and says, “Master, welcome back. I have been waiting for you here, just as I promised.”

Call tries to shore up his voice, prevent the shakes as he says, “A-are you the Enemy of Death?”

The man staggers back, collapsing back into himself. “I thought if you came here, your memory must have come back. It’s me, Master Joseph! Constantine, don’t you remember?”

“My name’s not Constantine.”

“In that body, your name is Callum Hunt, yes? But your soul belongs to Constantine Madden, the Enemy of Death.”

Call freezes. “How did you know my name?”

Master Joseph ignores him, swooping forward and grasping Call’s hand before he can pull away. In a burst of electricity, his vision goes white and suddenly he is seeing scenes, painted on the insides of his eyelids. A dizzying swirl of images spin by: a boy and a girl, back to back and fighting together. The girl, wearing black-spotted red, turns to the boy and says something, laughing. The boy, dressed in black, seems to look straight at Call. His eyes are the empty grey of a winter sky, the same grey as Call’s.

Call rips his hand away, panting harshly. Master Joseph says desperately, “Do you see now? I can help you, Constantine.”

Call backs away, trying to force his breath to slow down. Master Joseph yanks his cuff off of his wrist and holds it out to Call. “Here, your cuff. If I teach you how to use it, you can save your partner, the blond boy.”

For a moment, Call sees red. When it clears, it leaves a clear, cold determination. He looks Joseph in the eye, stepping forward slowly and purposefully. He reaches out his hand, lets it hover above the cuff.

“Stop!” Tamara shouts, stepping out of her hiding place. As Joseph reacts, Call snatches the cuff and back away with it in his hands. He attaches it carefully and Joseph laughs, starting to stand up. Call focuses on the pull in his stomach that he associates with his own cuff and a ball of black fire flickers to life. Tamara stares at him in horror as he hurls it against the wall. It hits Jericho’s nameplate, forcing it into the void.

“Yes! Very good!” Master Joseph crows, eyes burning. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes and raising his hands up to the ceiling. Call lifts his own hands, staring at the twin cuffs on his wrists, and fingers the new one. In one smooth movement, he unhooks the clasp and lets it fall to the ground, crushing it beneath his feet.

At the sound of rending metal, Master Joseph looks at him in horror, running forward as Call again concentrates on his powers, pulling everything out of the void. When the plate flickers back into existence, Joseph’s eyes fill with a terrible understanding and he starts to cackle. “You thought that would save your friend? You damned him: you can’t bring a soul back from the void. You really have lost your memories, Constantine, or you’d have known that.”

He collapses to the ground, limp and boneless. Call can’t make himself move. Tamara steps over to him, nudging him with her toe. When he doesn’t respond, she pulls her phone out once again and calls the police.

Call is still frozen, staring at Joseph’s body, when she hangs up and walks over to him. Her voice shakes as she asserts, “He was lying, Call. He knew he had lost and he was trying to make you give up. We’ll talk to the police and then we’ll go to the hospital and Aaron will be waking up. He has to.”

A flare of hope flickers in his chest.


	6. Chapter 6

Major Rajavi brings a whole fleet of police cars with her and a furious scowl. She moves efficiently around them as her husband takes Call’s statement. Master Joseph is handcuffed and bundled into a car before she actually acknowledges them.

She snaps furiously, “Tamara, what were you thinking? You’re grounded; Kimiya will take you to school and back and you will go nowhere else. And bringing Call with you? He’s-” She pauses awkwardly. “A crime scene is no place for him.”

Tamara shuffles her feet. “I’m sorry, Mom. It was an emergency. But, before you ground me, will you take me to the hospital?”

Major Rajavi pales, springing forward to examine Tamara and ask, “Why? Are you hurt?”

“No. I just wanted to check on Aaron. Please?”

Major Rajavi sighs and glances at her husband. “Very well.”

The hospital is quiet this early in the morning, the sun not even above the horizon. Call limps to the elevator, visitor pass in hand, and Tamara rides with him in silence, pressing close enough that they bump shoulders. At the door to the ICU, a tall, redheaded nurse blocks their path. Call wordlessly holds up his pass and she allows them in, reassuring gently, “He’s still unconscious. It might seem scary to see all of the tubes, but we’re doing everything we can to figure out what’s wrong with him.”

Aaron would seem merely asleep if it weren’t for the countless tubes and devices hooked up to him. They feed a constant stream of repeating, unchanging information. As they approach, a doctor pushes past them to murmur to the nurse, “The MRI and CAT scans didn’t show any trauma or brain damage. Keep an eye on him, see if he starts to wake up.”

Call moves closer, pulling up a chair and collapsing into it. His leg continues to throb as he stares at Aaron’s face. The soft beeps of the machines echo as he keeps vigil, Tamara pacing behind him.

The sun rises and Call checks his watch. It’s been hours since he used his powers. He turns to Tamara, eyes starting to water, but she looks past him, gasping and pointing.

“Look!”

Call turns. The sun shines softly across the bed, illuminating Aaron’s face. It hovers on each gleaming strand of hair, on the dips and soft rises of his face, and the feathery eyelashes beginning to flutter.

Call chokes, leaning forward desperately as Aaron’s face stills for a moment and then his eyes open. In the background, the nurse disappears for a moment, pressing a button. Call takes his hand, squeezing as Aaron rasps, “What’s happening? Am I in the hospital?”

“Yes.” Call bites his lip. “How much do you remember?”

“I was on patrol and-” Aaron stiffens, the heart rate machine beeping more quickly. “Call, you’re-” 

Call is moved aside as the doctor from before returns, pink streak glowing in her black hair. The red-haired nurse pushes them out of the room as they struggle, Tamara protesting loudly. She sits down next to the door, setting her jaw to wait, and Call joins her, trying to fold his leg in a way that doesn’t take up too much space without being agonizing.

They wait another few hours to be let back in. When the door finally reopens, Aaron is still in the bed, but many of the tubes have disappeared and he is sitting up. Tamara asks, “Are you alright?”

Aaron nods cheerfully. “They’re just keeping me for observation. Tamara, could I talk to Call privately?”

For a moment, Tamara looks hurt, before a gleeful light glints in her eyes. She grins slyly and replies, “Certainly, Chat Noir.”

She disappears before Aaron can react, giggling a little.

“Does she know?!”

Call shrugs. “She said she’d known about me for a while. I don’t know how long she’s known about you.”

“Ah.” Aaron is silent, looking at his hands while Call steals glances at him. “So, Ladybug. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You didn’t tell me,” Call points out stubbornly.

“I wanted to, but Ladybug--you--made me promise not to!”

Call winces. “That’s true. I was afraid to tell anyone; I know I’m not exactly superhero material. I didn’t want to disappoint them, or you.”

“Idiot. Call, you’re my partner. You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried. I l-” Aaron cuts himself off, flushing scarlet.

“You what? Aaron, you what?”

“I like you,” Aaron shouts. He glances around him and lowers his voice as he continues bitterly, “You had to have known.”

“You like Ladybug. You didn’t even know who I really was until last night,” Call hisses.

“I know you. And it’s okay. I already kind of knew you weren’t interested.”

Call hesitates, takes the plunge. “Aaron, you and Tamara were my first real friends. I wouldn’t trade you for the world. But after the thing with Jasper, when you said you were my friend, I was disappointed. I wanted--I don’t know, something more? I guess what I’m saying is, I maybe like you too?”

 

Tamara is at school first again, waiting for Call as he hops out of his father’s car and makes his way up the stairs. They wait together as classmates walk past. The warning bell rings and Tamara picks up her backpack.

“I guess he’s not coming today either.”

Call grins and remains where he is. Tamara squints at him and asks, “Do you know something I don’t?”

“I’m here!”

Aaron sprints up, hair flopping into his face. Tamara flings her arms around him, crushing him so enthusiastically that he starts wheezing. She finally relaxes her grip when he starts hitting lightly against her hands, panting. He catches his breath and turns to Call, beaming. Call makes as if to walk away and Aaron gasps affrontedly. Call extends his hand, still facing away, and waits for Aaron to take it and squeeze gently.

“Let’s get to class. Come on, Tamara.”

Lightning quick, Call pivots and kisses him, ears flushing pink. Aaron smiles against his mouth, kissing back.

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter of my first work! This is a Miraculous Ladybug AU, with plot aspects of both stories mixed together. Spoilers if you haven't read the books. I don't think it's too dark, but I figured I'd err on the side of caution, just in case. If you have any concerns, please feel free to message me.
> 
> I have all of it written and will be posting every few days as I finish editing. Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Hope all readers enjoy!


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